A Similar Fate
by hp1piececraziness
Summary: Victor has a brief meeting with Emily who tells him to go to a river that runs near the village, where he meets the corpse of a childhood friend named Charlotte. She gives a vague warning of a future murder that could seriously affect his life, leaving out the possible victim. She tells him that he can stop the murder with her help, although she cannot physically interfere.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Corpse Bride belongs to Tim Burton!**

**Author's Note: This is my first Corpse Bride fan fiction. I love this movie. When I first saw it, I knew that I had to write a fan fiction for it. That happens with some movies that I watch. **

**The prologue of this is set when Victor is maybe about eight years old. The prologue's ending is better than the beginning in my opinion. The chapters that follow will be set about a year after the events of the movie, so there's a pretty big time gap. Reviews are welcome; they help me write, but ****no flames****!**

**Enjoy **

Prologue

It was one of those rare sunny afternoons. That didn't mean that the village was livelier at all, but it did mean that there were more people outside. By the edge of the road, two children, a brunette girl with delicate features and a little purple bag, and a worried looking boy with dark brown hair that stuck out on one side sat, talking. A little rat terrier with slightly floppy ears ran around them, trying to get their attention.

"So you're really going to do it?" asked the boy, whose name was Victor, nervously.

"Yes, Victor," sighed the girl, whose name was Charlotte. "I've told you at least ten times already. Tonight, I'll sneak out and tell the authorities what I think happened to my sister."

"Why don't you just tell your parents?" said Victor. "It would be a lot easier than sneaking out."

"I've already tried to tell them and everyone in my household," snapped Charlotte. "My mother hasn't been talking all that much ever since my sister's disappearance. Every time I try to talk to her about Emily, she just mutters some things to herself. Sometimes, she starts to weep a little, and the maid tells me to leave her alone."

"What about your father?" asked Victor.

"Father refuses to believe that Emily could possibly be dead," said Charlotte quietly. "Both of my parents seem to be losing their mind. I don't want to admit that Emily's dead either, but I know that she is. I think that that Lord Whatever-His-Name-Is killed her. Judging by the way he acted around Emily the one time I saw him, he clearly wanted something from her. I think that he killed her to get it."

There was a brief silence. The rat terrier trotted up to Victor and nudged his elbow.

"But, you can't go to the authorities and ask them to help you unless you have evidence," said Victor, scratching the terrier behind the ear. "They won't believe you. You can't just assume…"

"I'm not just assuming that that man killed her," said Charlotte, narrowing her eyes. "I _know_ he killed her, and I also know that you're just trying to talk me out of going to the authorities."

"Why do you have to go in the middle of the night?" asked Victor. There was a definite note of concern in his voice.

"I've already told you that during the daytime, my witch of a nanny is always watching me like a hawk," sighed Charlotte. "She watches from the window on the top floor of my house. It's a little unnerving. I just found out that she's been spying on me a while ago. I don't even know how long she's been doing it. At night, it's different. At night, everyone's asleep, and no one suspects that that's when I'm going to leave. There's nothing you can say to stop me from doing this, so stop trying…"

"Well, if there is a murderer around like you think there is," said Victor. "Then, you shouldn't be out in the middle of the night alone. That's when your sister disappeared isn't it? It's far too dangerous to go alone."

Charlotte frowned at him and said, "If that's what you think, why don't you come with me? You won't really be of any use, but I'd prefer to go with someone than to go out there alone…"

Victor hesitated. Charlotte shook her head.

"I know that you're too afraid of getting caught to go with me tonight," she sighed. "So, stop whining about me going alone. You're always too scared of the rules to do anything interesting; I don't tend to break them either, but if it means avenging my sister, I have to weigh my priorities."

"I just think that it's a horrible idea," said Victor.

"I don't care what you think," said Charlotte coolly.

There was another brief moment of silence in which Charlotte glowered at Victor, who avoided her glare and stared instead at the rat terrier.

"I think I'll go home now," said Charlotte after a while. She reached into her bag and took out a red book.

"Do you want this back?" she asked. "I'm not quite done reading it but…"

"You can keep it until you're done," replied Victor.

"Alright then," said Charlotte in a still rather irritated tone.

With that, she got up and marched off down the street towards her home, leaving Victor and his little terrier, Scraps, by the side of the road.

Calling his dog to come to him, Victor rose to leave for home also. His last few meetings with Charlotte had all gone the same way ever since the dreadful disappearance of her sister. They all ended with Charlotte snapping at him and leaving abruptly. They had known each other for a few years now, and she had never been as cold to him as she had been the past few days.

He still hoped that Charlotte's sister would be found, but he knew that the odds of that happening were not very great. Still, it wouldn't help at all for Charlotte to risk _her_ safety. He was still debating whether or not to follow Charlotte and attempt one last time to dissuade her.

When Charlotte wasn't upset, she was quite intelligent and could be a very pleasant person to be around. She liked literature and often borrowed books from Victor. When she was distressed, however, she tended to think illogically and extremely impulsively.

Usually she started to think like her normal self before she acted on impulse, which was very fortunate, but this time the situation was much more severe than ever before. Charlotte had been extremely close to her sister, and if Emily was dead, Charlotte was going to do something about it.

It was past midnight and Victor had finally made his decision. Charlotte would be leaving at any time and she would pass his house. This would give him one last chance to persuade her to go back home. He knew that any attempt of his would probably be to no avail, but he had to at least try again.

He didn't know exactly why this was so important to him. Perhaps it was the possibility that the unlikely would happen and she'd listen to him. Maybe it was the thought that if he didn't take this last opportunity, and something happened to his friend, he'd never be able to get rid of that horrible feeling of false guilt.

His short little escape plan's main problem was how exactly he was going to get out of his house. The front door was not an option, since his parents kept the keys in their room. Victor was not going to risk awakening them. There was already a high chance that he'd get caught.

He didn't understand how Charlotte could slip out at night and return without anyone even suspecting that she'd left. Yes, she had snuck out before, but that time there hadn't been the high possibility of a _murderer_ lurking about.

Victor's room wasn't on the top floor, and there were a few ledges that he could use to climb down from the window, but this still seemed like a very hazardous exit. Unfortunately, he didn't have many other alternatives.

So, he waited by the window, Scraps asleep on his lap. After a while, he saw the figure of a girl in a pale pink nightgown with brunette curls and a purple bag, walking down the moonlit street. Victor jumped up from his chair and opened the window. Scraps slid off his lap, landed on the floor with a _thump_, and barked loudly a few times.

Victor could already hear the high-pitched, annoyed voice of Nell Van Dort, his mother. Hastily he shut the window and flung himself into bed. He pulled the covers over himself, and tried to make it look like he was asleep, which was a bit difficult considering how wide awake he was. The door to his room creaked open a few seconds later. He heard his mother grumbling about "that awful dog" before shutting the door.

Once he was sure that she had gone back to bed, Victor went to the window and opened it again. He looked down and took a deep breath. For a moment, all he could think about was how badly injured he'd be if he fell trying to climb down, but he shook that out of his mind. Gingerly, he climbed onto the windowsill.

He glanced at Scraps, who for a moment looked like he was about to bark again, but the dog stayed at the foot of Victor's bed, staring at him. Even Scraps seemed to be saying to him, "Have you lost your mind? Get off that windowsill before you fall and break every bone in your body."

Very slowly, Victor climbed onto the first ledge. Surprisingly, he managed to maintain his balance. Heaving a sigh of relief, he looked down and stepped onto another ledge. Again, he managed not to fall. He lowered his right foot onto the third ledge.

This time, he wasn't so lucky. As soon as he stepped onto the third ledge, his slipped and landed with a _thud_ on the pavement below.

Well, he wasn't dead like he had expected he would be, but he was definitely bruised. There was an acute pain in his left arm and his ankle felt badly sprained. Wincing, he got to his feet. He could see the silhouette of Charlotte, a long way ahead of him.

It hurt too much to run at the speed that he normally would, but he pursued her at a fast paced walk. He had just fallen from a window ledge and probably fractured his arm to reach her; he hoped that she would at least _consider_ listening to him this time.

A short while later, they were near the edge of the village. Victor was quite a long way behind, and soon, he lost sight of Charlotte's figure. Victor stopped abruptly, looking around for any signs of movement. Slowly, he walked a little bit farther. All he could see now were the eerie black outlines of rooftops, and the forest ahead of him. There seemed to be no hope in spotting her again.

Soon, Victor gave up and started to head back home. All he could do now was hope that nothing like what had happened to Charlotte's sister would happen to Charlotte.

"Maybe, the murderer isn't prowling about," Victor thought hopefully. "Maybe, there never was a murderer in the first place. Charlotte may have just been jumping to conclusion."

Now, he had his own things to worry about, like how he would explain everything to his parents, who he knew would be furious. With a broken arm and wide open bedroom window, it would be very hard to hide what had really happened. Victor wasn't a good liar anyway.

Those thoughts disappeared from his mind when he heard a high pitched scream. His blood ran cold as his mind registered who it belonged to.

Without thinking, he turned around and started running towards where he had heard the scream from. His injured arm and ankle made it agonizing to run, but he ignored the pain. The shriek had come from the river that ran near the village. He was sure of it.

At last, he got there. Scanning the moonlit banks of the river, he saw something that nearly made him faint.

There was a figure of a man by the stream. The man's back was turned. On the ground next to the man was the limp body of a girl with brunette curls wearing a pale pink nightgown.

Was she dead or unconscious? Would it be best to try to help her or would it be better to run back home? The questions raced through Victor's head as he stood there, petrified with terror and panic, unsure of what to do.

Suddenly, the man by the river whipped around. Victor still couldn't see the face of the man. He didn't wait for the man to get any closer. His immediate instinct was to run, and he did not resist it. He dashed off into the streets of the village, ignoring the sting in his arm and his aching ankle. Still running, he glanced over his shoulder and saw, to his horror, that he was being followed by the man.

Trepidation and panic had consumed him. His heart was pounding. Luckily, he knew his way home even in the darkness. He turned a corner and nearly tripped because of his sprained ankle. The man was probably getting close to catching up to him. He wasn't sure. He didn't have the time to look behind him.

Finally, Victor reached the street where he lived. Panting, he raced to the front door of his house and pounded on it. He heard voices and then, the door flew open. His mother stood in the doorway, his father behind her. They both looked more than a little annoyed, but Victor couldn't have cared less about punishment. He looked behind him. The man was gone.

"Victor!" shrieked his mother. "What in Heaven's name are you doing outside at one o'clock in the morning? How did you get out of your room?"

"The window" was all Victor had time to say before his mother dragged him inside by the ear and slammed the door shut.

"That dog of yours started barking for the second time tonight," screamed Nell. "When your father went to your room to quiet him down, he found that you were gone and the window was wide open. Explain!"

"Charlotte s-said she w-was going to sneak out tonight," stammered Victor. "I t-told her not to do it this afternoon, but she wouldn't listen. I made up m-my mind to try to convince her again tonight, before she left. So I climbed down from the window. I fell and I think I broke m-my arm, but I still followed her. I l-lost her for a while, but then I heard her scream and then I went to the river. There was a man there, and by the time I g-got there…"

Victor's voice trailed off. The image of Charlotte's body lying motionless on the ground danced in his mind. The thought of it took away his voice.

"Victor," said his father calmly. "What did you see?"

Victor gulped. "Charlotte's dead!" he cried. "I saw her body by the river! The man chased after me, but I think I lost him and…"

He didn't complete his sentence before he started sobbing. The shock from when he had first seen the body had been replaced by the dreadful realization that the vivacious girl whom he'd known and been friends with for several years was dead. He now fully understood how Charlotte had felt about her sister. He had never lost someone to death before that night; he had never felt grief until then, and it was a truly terrible feeling.

**Author's Note: Well, that was probably my longest prologue ever. It's not like Tim Burton wrote it, but I tried right? Anyway, I'll try to get the next chapters posted as soon as I can. School really delays my updates. **

**The plot that I discussed in the plot summary will begin in the chapter after this. This story will get better once the plot actually starts. I just had to put this prologue in since it's pretty important to the story.**

**Remember, please review! **


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This took me a pretty long time to write. It was hard to get this chapter started. The beginning of the chapter is a little slow, but I think that it picks up later on. Overall, the next chapter will be better. I've started writing Chapter 2. I ran into countless writer's blocks during this one.**

**Oh and another thing: If you've reviewed, thank you so much! I always love getting reviews, with the exception of flames. They help me write.**

"_True! – nervous – very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad?" – Edgar Allan Poe, __The Tell Tale Heart_

Chapter 1

_12 years later_

It had been nearly a year since Victor Van Dort had freed Emily, the Corpse Bride. He hadn't actually seen her or anyone from the Land of the Dead since then, but Emily still haunted him. Simple objects brought back memories, especially the grand piano that had been moved from the Everglot family's home to his new home with his wife, Victoria. He avoided the woods, where he'd first met Emily, and the spot where she had dissolved into millions of butterflies, to attempt to prevent any painful recollections

Everything was in some way related to the Corpse Bride. These reminiscences tormented Victor the most when Victoria was away. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because those times emphasized any feelings of loneliness that he had and any thoughts about how much he wanted to see Emily just one more time.

It was one of those nights when the sky was still so cloudy after dusk that the moon was almost completely hidden, making the whole village pitch black. Victor lay in his bed in the darkness. Victoria had left for her cousin's wedding, which he had not been invited to, the previous day. It was very late, but he had given up trying to sleep after having several unnervingly vivid dreams about Emily and a little brunette girl from his childhood whom he tried not to think about.

Charlotte. Yes, she had been the center of his dreams for nearly a year straight after her murder, but that had been eleven years ago. Slowly he had managed to move on after the tragedy.

Now, her memory was plaguing him again as though her disappearance had just been reported yesterday. Again, Victor didn't understand why this was happening.

He was dreadfully fatigued, but every time he attempted to go back to sleep, the dreams returned. These dreams were nothing like the insignificant little nightmares that he had had as a young boy. These dreams _tortured _him.

All he could do was stare up at the outline of the ceiling and try to stay awake.

The clock downstairs had just struck one o'clock in the morning a few minutes ago when Victor heard a dull _thump_ from downstairs, followed by a scraping noise. He jumped. It sounded like someone was moving furniture, but there was no one in the house except for him; at least, there shouldn't have been.

He sat upright against the headboard, listening intently. After several minutes of dead silence he lay back down, sighing.

"It's just the lack of sleep," he muttered to himself.

Soon his eyes closed and he nearly fell asleep again before another noise jolted him awake. As soon as he registered what it was, he felt a chill run throughout his body. This time, the noise wasn't just a sound; it was the faint sound of someone playing a song on a grand piano. More specifically, it was the song that he had heard Emily play on the piano in the Land of the Dead.

Without thinking, Victor got up, went to where the candles were kept and lit one. Guided by the light, he made his way over to the long staircase. Very carefully, he made his way downstairs. The house's previous owner had died by falling down the stairs in the middle of the night. Victor and Victoria were always sure to avoid going down the stairs in pure darkness.

The music had started to die away by the time Victor reached the foot of the stairs. He reached the room with the piano and illuminated the area with his candle, half expecting to see a specter of some sort sitting on the piano bench. The bench had been pushed out as if someone was sitting there, playing, but there wasn't anyone there. The music continued for a few more seconds before it ended abruptly.

For a moment Victor just stood there, with the candle in his hand, staring at the empty piano bench. The sudden silence was even more eerie than the music. Silence always brought a sense of suspense. The song felt unfinished. For some unknown reason, Victor found himself longing to hear the music again.

Tentatively, he placed the candle on the edge of the piano and played the simple tune that he had played in a duet with Emily a year ago. After a few measures he paused. Again, silence. He shook his head.

"You weren't actually expecting to hear something in response were you?" he murmured to himself. "It's all in your head."

He picked up the candle and prepared to leave, but stopped dead a few seconds later. Someone was playing the other part of the duet. One thing was certain: The music was not just in his head. It was as real as the first time he had heard that tune.

Without thinking, he called out, "Emily?"

There was a brief pause before he heard the familiar sweet and soothing voice of a woman reply, "Hello, Victor. I haven't seen you in so long."

Victor jumped and dropped the candle. A skeletal hand caught it and handed it to him. Trembling, he looked into the shining black eyes of Emily.

He didn't know how to react. He was definitely stunned; he had thought that he'd seen Emily for the last time last year. He wasn't sure whether to run away from her or embrace her. He wasn't even sure whether or not he was awake. All he could say was "Why are you here?"

"You sound upset," said Emily.

"I," said Victor. "I… I'm just… startled."

"Startled" was a bit of an understatement. He felt ready to faint.

"I can tell," said Emily. "You ask why I am here. We weren't meant to meet again until your death, but something has changed that. A disaster is approaching, and you need to be warned…"

"Warned?" said Victor nervously. "What exactly do you mean by 'a disaster'?"

"I am not the one to deliver the actual warning," replied Emily. "That is not what I'm here for. I'm here to give you instructions. Now, I can't stay for long, so I'll try to be concise. Two days from now, you need to go down to that river that runs by the woods at the edge of town. Someone will be waiting there for you."

"Who would that be?" asked Victor in a voice that was barely audible.

"I can't say," said Emily. "But Elder Gutknecht told me that you know her. He's the one who alerted me about this matter. I don't have any connection to The Land of the Living anymore… but back to what we were discussing. You need to be at the river sometime in the evening, just before the sun starts to set. The timing is very important."

Victor nodded, although he hadn't really understood half of what Emily had just told him. He couldn't exactly deny that he was curious about the warning. When a deceased friend comes to visit you and tells you something about an approaching calamity, you can't help but be a little anxious. He wished that Emily could elaborate a little on the catastrophe.

"Now," continued Emily. "I know that this must all sound very odd; these things are hard for the living to understand, but everything I just said to you is _extremely _important, and I hope that you won't ignore my instructions."

"Of course I won't," said Victor; he couldn't even imagine how someone could ignore something like this. "Is there anything else I ought to know?"

"Yes," said Emily. "I'd recommend that you don't tell anyone about this. You've been to the Land of the Dead and back, but others who haven't done so find these things very hard to believe."

Victor nodded again. The clouds in the night sky had drifted away a little and the moon was now half-visible through the window. A few thin streams of moonlight seeped into the room. Emily sighed and whispered, "I'm being called back."

Victor stared at her blankly. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I cannot stay here any longer," replied Emily. "My time in this world ended long ago. It is now time for me to return to the Land of the Dead."

She placed the candle on the piano and started to walk away into the darkness.

"Wait," said Victor suddenly.

What was truly frustrating for him was that for the past year, he had thought of a myriad of things he wanted tell to Emily, but for this whole time, he had been unable to form any of his thoughts into words. She had come back, and he could barely believe it, and now his opportunity to speak to her was going to slip through his fingers.

"What is it?" asked Emily, sounding a little alarmed.

"I…" said Victor. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm dreadfully sorry about what happened with the wedding...I...promised to be with you-"

"You don't need to apologize for anything," said Emily. "You set me free; I'm grateful to you. I _wanted_ to do the same for you. It would have been wrong for you to throw away your life instead of having a full life with Victoria. I wanted you to have that life with Victoria, because I loved you. I knew you'd be happier that way… and you _are_ happier this way, Victor. Don't worry about me; I'm quite contented. Just worry about the instructions I gave you tonight. Good-bye, Victor."

As soon as Emily finished her last sentence, the light from the candle went out abruptly. The moon started to creep back behind the clouds, and a thick cover of blackness covered the room again.

"Emily?" Victor called out.

There was no response; he was, once again, alone. Slowly, he found his way to the piano bench and sat down, sighing.

For the next few minutes, Emily's voice echoed in his head: "_I knew you'd be happier that way_ _and you _are _happier this way, Victor._"

Was this really true? Yes, he loved Victoria and yes, he supposed that you could say he was pleased with his life, but was he really better off than he would have been if he'd married Emily?

This was yet another question that Victor didn't know the answer to.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: So here's chapter two. Once again, thank you if you've reviewed! I'm glad that people like this story. Victoria does show up briefly at the beginning, but not for the whole chapter. I mainly ship VictorXEmily (If you're a VictorXVictoria fan, I respect that too), but there is some of Victoria in this story. Emily will show up again also. The first part is a bit boring compared to the last part, but stay with me.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter. Reviews are welcomed as always(with the exception of flames)**

Chapter 2

"Victor?" called a woman's voice.

Victor felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and found Victoria leaning over him, looking confused. It soon became clear why.

It appeared that he had fallen asleep at the piano, with his head resting on the keyboard. He didn't remember falling asleep there, but then again, he couldn't recall ever going back to bed after his meeting with Emily either.

"Did you spend the whole night down here?" asked Victoria.

Victor hesitated. He remembered what Emily had said about keeping the events of the previous night to himself, but he certainly didn't want to keep them a secret. Victoria was an excellent confidant after all, but how would she react to his story about Emily's visit?

"I had trouble sleeping," said Victor. "I came downstairs and played a few little tunes."

It wasn't a complete lie. He _had_ been downstairs playing the piano, and he _had_ been unable to sleep. That of course, wasn't the whole story though.

"How was the wedding?" he added, anxious to change the subject.

"Alright, I suppose," replied Victoria. "Did anything else happen well I was away?"

"No," said Victor quickly. "Everything went well. Nothing unusual happened."

That was a plain and obvious lie, unless Victoria counted a visit from a deceased bride a normal event. For a moment, Victor couldn't tell whether or not she had seen right through the lie.

When she opened her mouth to speak, Victor was certain that she was about to demand the truth, but Victoria merely said, "That's good."

Victor relaxed a little.

"Now, my parents told me at the wedding that they and a few of my other relatives wish to come here this Saturday," continued Victoria. "They want to discuss a few matters…"

Her voice trailed off before she added, with a tone of embarrassment, "My cousin whose wedding I attended yesterday will be coming also. She'll be bringing her husband. He seemed very eager to meet you. He says that he knew you years ago."

"What is his name?" Victor asked. It seemed a little odd that he hadn't been invited to the wedding, if the groom wanted to meet him. Not that he was disappointed that he hadn't been invited; he didn't ever look forward to seeing the Everglauts any more than they looked forward to seeing him.

Victoria paused before saying, "I cannot recall his first name. His last name was Garrett? Does that sound familiar to you?"

"No," replied Victor. "When exactly are they coming here?"

"They will be arriving Saturday evening," said Victoria. "They'll probably only stay for dinner. I don't think that my parents have been to this house before, since we only moved here recently."

"Saturday evening," muttered Victor. "That's two days from now, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied Victoria. "Do you already have something planned for Saturday evening? I don't recall you saying anything…"

"No," said Victor. "No, I don't."

He knew that it was better to act as if nothing was wrong, then to try to conjure a false excuse. For a second, he considered simply going to the river to receive his warning at another time, but then, he remembered what Emily had said about the specific timing being crucial.

"That's good," said Victoria again. "I just wanted to let you know that they're coming, so that you can be… ready."

Victor nodded. They both remembered the last time that Victoria's parents had come to visit their first home together. Victor, having forgotten that his in-laws would soon be arriving, had gone for a short walk to the oak tree where Emily had died. It had just been one of those times when he had a sudden irresistible urge to go there.

He had arrived home to find Finis and Maudeline Everglot seated in the drawing room looking rather annoyed. Maudeline had wasted no time in starting a very long harangue about "impropriety" and "punctuality." Victor _did not_ want to have to endure another one of his mother-in-law's rants; hopefully, the warning would be short.

The next two days were uneventful. The looming prospect of the approaching tragedy had made Victor even more nervous than usual. He was constantly whipping around to check that there wasn't anyone behind him. If he had to go somewhere, he walked at least twice as quickly as he normally would, to make sure that nothing followed him. Victoria had noticed all of this, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

When Saturday finally arrived, Victor decided to head to the river about half an hour before sunset. It only took a few minutes to reach the river, but he supposed that if he arrived early, he could possibly receive his caveat earlier and be able to get back home in time for the Everglot's visit.

He told Victoria that he was merely going for a short walk in the woods, to clear his mind. Victoria hadn't been too keen on the idea, but she'd let him go after he promised about five times that he wouldn't be late getting home.

Arriving at the river early proved to be a bad idea however. Whoever was supposed to deliver the warning was not there waiting for Victor, nor did they come within the next half an hour. The freezing weather and strong wind did not make sitting by the edge of the river without a thick coat enjoyable in the least.

Victor soon began to wonder whether the person who was meant to meet him had forgotten about their job. Emily had said to come by sunset; he was certain of that. He was very tempted to head back home, but that could mean losing his chance to hear exactly what the calamity was; he couldn't risk that.

So, he waited. In a matter of minutes, the sun was barely visible in the dim sky. Victor leaned over the edge of the partially frozen river, staring into the murky water underneath the thin layer of ice.

In a distance he heard the faint cawing of crows. He looked over at a nearby tree and saw five of them, perched on the bare branches. Crows always reminded him of Emily.

Victor then heard a cracking noise. He turned back to the river. The layer of ice had started to crack as though someone was hammering away at it from underneath. Victor leaned forward, trying to see what was trying to break through.

For a moment, all he could see was the blurry black water. Then, two human hands pressed against the ice on the other side before disappearing into the depths of the water.

Startled, Victor jumped back. There was a little bit more knocking before part of the ice shattered completely, leaving a hole large enough for a child to crawl through. One hand reached out of the hole, followed by another. This was just like what had happened when Emily had risen from the ground, and once again, Victor was unable to move or speak at all. All he could do was watch as the head of a corpse came into view.

Victor could now see that it was the corpse of a young girl. She had a few thin, wispy locks of hair and her skin was frail and gray. She rested her skinny, decayed arms on the edge of the hole and looked at him with wide eyes that were childlike, but devoid of light.

"Victor," she whispered. "I haven't spoken to you in nearly twelve years."

Victor still couldn't say anything. He felt like he knew her, but her cadaver was too decomposed for him to recognize her from anywhere. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar though. He searched through his mind, trying desperately to remember where he had heard it.

The corpse girl shook her head and said, "You don't recognize me; I can tell by that confused look on your face."

She reached into the water and pulled something small out.

"Perhaps this will help you," she said, handing the object to him.

Nervously, Victor took it. The object appeared to be a red book. It was extremely torn and so wet that very few of the words were any more than a blur of ink on thin paper. It was definitely quite old. Victor opened it (to his surprise, it did not fall to pieces) and examined the inside front cover.

Although the water had made it barely legible, Victor could read the name written there, in the handwriting that he knew as his own: _Victor Van Dort_.

At that moment, everything made sense. Everything tied together, including Emily's story. He knew the corpse girl; he had once known her very well. He felt rather obtuse for not figuring things out sooner; it was all so obvious. Who had borrowed a red book from him when he was young? Who had told him, long ago, that she was going to avenge her murdered sister, Emily? Who had he seen in the middle of the night, laying by that very river, all those years ago?

He dropped the book and faced the dead girl again. He stared back into her eyes, which were so innocent, yet so full of darkness. Finally finding his voice, he said one word: "Charlotte."

The corpse nodded. "It's been so long," she whispered. "So many years."


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: In case you want a visual of what Charlotte looks like, I am on Deviantart and I have drawings of Charlotte, other OCs and Burton stuff. If you'd like to see my Charlotte picture for a visual, visit my profile, scroll down to underneath the first line break, and the link's there.**

**Anyway, on to Chapter 3! Once again, thank you if you've reviewed and as always, reviews are welcomed. **

Chapter 3

Charlotte giggled. Her laugh was just like the last time Victor had heard it. Her smile was the same too. In short, with the exception of physical appearance, she was exactly the same as she'd been when her heart was beating. So why did it feel like she was a stranger?

"That stunned look you have…" said Charlotte. "You'd think that we've never met."

"I…I didn't recognize you at first," was all Victor could say.

"Yes," replied Charlotte. "The process of decomposition makes people a little hard to recognize. You haven't changed all that much. You're just older and taller, but you're expression and the way you talk isn't very different. From what I've heard, you've spoken to a corpse before. That would explain why you haven't dashed off, screaming, yet. You do look quite anxious. Is there something else you want to say?"

Of course there were about a hundred things Victor wanted to tell her, but the surprise of seeing his deceased friend again still made it too hard for him to articulate his thoughts. All he could utter was one simple question:

"How exactly did you die?"

"That is a curious matter indeed," said Charlotte, nodding in recognition. "Dark and I suppose you could say tragic, but very curious indeed."

She paused for a moment, staring up at the moon, apparently deep in thought. Then, she turned back to Victor and said, "I assume you remember our last conversation, don't you?"

Victor nodded stiffly.

"Well, as you may have guessed," said Charlotte. "I snuck out around ten past twelve. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight for me to know where I was going and move swiftly. I reached that bridge in a matter of minutes."

She raised a skeletal finger and pointed at a nearby bridge, the one where Victor had fainted and woken up in the Land of the Dead.

"I was just about the cross the bridge when it happened," continued Charlotte. "I managed to whip around in time to find a person behind me. I couldn't make out their face. It was too dark, but I did see that they were holding something metallic that glinted in the moonlight. That was all I had time to see before the knife got me right here."

She gestured to the rip in her nightgown, slightly above her silent heart before going on.

"My murderer did not linger, however," she said. "I don't know why, but suddenly, they turned around and started running off towards something. I'm not sure what it was, but they did manage to push me into the river before leaving. The last thing I felt was the freezing water and the little trickle of blood down my nightgown. The last thing I saw was the blurred beams of moonlight shining through the water. It all happened in a matter of seconds, before I drowned."

She sighed and stared up at the moon again.

"It's a real shame that the authorities are right outside of this village," she said wistfully. "Maybe then I could have reached them in time if they had been closer, but there's no use speculating on what could have been. That's all a matter of the past, just like all my days as one of the living. Death is the present, and I'll focus on my current state."

At once, the pain from the day it had all happened returned to Victor. He couldn't subdue it; he couldn't keep that one thought that had sparked that agonizing feeling of culpability concerning Charlotte's death.

"I should have helped you then," he said. "I should have pulled you out of the river. I should…"

"Do you love blaming yourself?" interrupted Charlotte.

Victor didn't answer. They both knew that the answer was "no", but there were times when you had to blame yourself, weren't there?

"Then stop it," said Charlotte.

"I could have helped you though…" started Victor.

"No, you couldn't have," said Charlotte. "And here are a few reasons why. The first is that I was good as dead when the knife got me. Even if I hadn't fallen into the river, I wouldn't have been able to survive being cut like that."

"Maybe I could have gotten there sooner and stopped you from being stabbed in the first place," said Victor stubbornly. "I was out that night. I was just too slow…"

"And it's a blessing that you didn't get there in time," said Charlotte. "Unless you fancy dying at a young age and being trapped here for twelve years like me, that is. If you had been there with me when my murderer arrived, they would have killed you also. Don't say that you could have fought them off, because I know that you wouldn't have had a chance. You were one of the skinniest boys I'd ever seen. Whoever my murderer was, they would have killed you sooner than they killed me."

Victor knew that this was true. He didn't feel all that much better, but he decided to drop the subject. Charlotte relaxed a little.

"I've answered your question," said Charlotte. "Now I have some things to ask you. If you were out on the night that I died, did you see my murderer?"

"I saw a dark figure," said Victor. "That was all."

"Nothing more?"

"No."

"You didn't even get a glimpse of the face."

"No, I wasn't close enough."

Charlotte sighed again and said, "That's a shame."

All Victor could do was nod in assent. He sympathized with her the same way he had when he heard Emily's story, but yet, once again, he felt like there was nothing he could do for her. At least Emily was free, whereas Charlotte was obviously not. That was how Emily had come to visit him last night…

He was suddenly reminded of the warning and the arrival of his in-laws. In fact, the Everglots were probably waiting for him already. He wasn't sure; he didn't know what time it was.

"Charlotte," he said hastily. "I was told by Emily… er… your sister…"

"I'm glad that you finally got that straight," interrupted Charlotte. "Go on."

"She told me to come here to receive a warning," said Victor.

"Ah, yes, that," said Charlotte.

"You're the one who's supposed to tell me aren't you?" said Victor.

"Yes," said Charlotte. "Would you like me to give it to you now?"

"Yes," said Victor, although the answer was evident. He knew that she realized that. She just wanted to tease him, just like she had when they were children, playing together. Didn't she understand that he had responsibilities now? Didn't she understand that he didn't have time for this?

"Alright then," said Charlotte. "The upcoming calamity is a murder. It will happen in a matter of months. I'm not sure exactly how many. In the same way, I do not know the identity of the possible victim, nor the murderer. Things will be much more clear once the time for the murder draws nearer. The reason I'm telling you about it, is because if this murder occurs, it will have a drastic effect on your life."

Victor shuddered and listened intently.

"I believe that you can prevent it," said Charlotte. "No, I _know _that you can prevent it. It all depends on how you interpret the information I will give you as the time for the murder gets closer. I can't help you physically, but I can assist you that way."

Victor had grown paler than usual. He was running through the list of "possible victims" in his mind. True, maybe he could stop it all from happening, but with the information that he had at the moment, the odds of that happening seemed very bleak.

"Is…is there anything else?" he asked.

Charlotte shook her head.

"Not at the moment," she said. "There will be at our next meeting. My sister will probably pay you another visit soon to tell you when that will be. For now, I have nothing more to tell you. Is everything clear?"

"Yes," said Victor. "It was… very nice to see you again. Is… is… there anything I can do for you?"

"Don't worry about me," said Charlotte. "I'll be free to move on someday. Concentrate on one task at a time."

"Yes, well… I… I…really must get going now…" stuttered Victor, trying not to sound rude. "I…have relatives visiting and I...I… well…"

"Good-bye then, Victor," said Charlotte, grinning.

"Yes… farewell, Charlotte," said Victor.

With that, he slowly turned away from the river. He could tell that Charlotte was still watching him. He could feel those familiar eyes full of unfamiliar blackness on him. He headed up the path towards town until he was out of her sight before running the rest of the way home. He was already prepared to meet his mother-in-law's rage.


End file.
